


So please, Q, help me out here.

by goldhowler



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fillory, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldhowler/pseuds/goldhowler
Summary: Eliot is to be married the next day and the realization that he will most likely never touch another man leads him to asking Quentin for help.





	So please, Q, help me out here.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I thought of while watching the Magicians.. I don't ship them in a 'relationship' kind of way, but there is so much going on canonicaly I love it. So I mean.. why not?! I apologize if they are a bit out of character, this is the first time writing Q and El so.. learning! Enjoy!

“I’m to be married tomorrow and from there on I am doomed to most likely never touch another man again. So please, Q, help me out here.”

-

Eliot downed another glass of… whatever that was he had been drinking. His entire world turned upside down when the knife drew his blood. _I’m High King of fucking Fillory,_ he snorted at the thought. Not only that, but he was to be married to the girl he had never seen before. Fate sure had a wicked sense of humour. As if he hadn’t suffered enough. Still, this might have saved his life – Brakebills has turned into this giant pit of darkness for Eliot, which only got worse after Mike’s death. He was still haunted by those few seconds before he was forced to break his neck to save Dean Fogg. _’No, not Mike. The Beast. That was the Beast.’_ he tried to remind himself, but he wasn’t drunk enough for that to work. 

“How are you feeling?” Quentin sat down next to him, refilling Eliot’s glass. 

“I just found out I will have to rule this land I know next to nothing of and drink their bad wine while I’m at it till the rest of my life. I think I’m gonna have to dedicate the first year of my reign to teach them how to make a decent booze,” he glanced at the younger boy before snorting a little. “This is so fucked up,” he took another sip of the drink. 

“El, you’re going to be fine. I know, this sucks, but – you’ll get to be the High King. Honestly, at first I thought it would be me but… if it’s how this is supposed to be, we can’t really do anything about it. I wasn’t strong enough, but you are. And me, Margo, Alice… even Penny - We’ll be there to help you,” Quentin assured him, but the realization of how big these events were reflected in his eyes. 

“Is it how you thought it would be?” 

“What, Fillory? Um, no, not really. It’s so much more – ruthless. I mean I get it, Plover wrote the books for kids so I get it, but it feels so different that it makes me angry. It was supposed to be this amazing, magical adventure, just like Jane’s, but now I’m just… it fucking sucks.” 

“Yeah,” Eliot exhaled and put down his glass. The wine was truly disgusting compared to Earthen standards. “You know what’s fucked up? When I marry her, whatever her name w –“ 

“Fen.” 

“Oh Jesus – okay, so when I marry Fen, that is the end. Apparently when you get married here, you can’t be with anyone else, like ever. That means my dick will probably never get to meet another dick and knowing that, I honestly feel like running away.”

Quentin laughed shortly, but knew Eliot was probably only half joking. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a way around it. In Fillory, there’s always a way. But El, the fate of the magic depends on you marrying Fen and getting the knife in return. Without it there is no way to kill the Beast. After we get rid of him, we’ll try to find the solution to this, okay? I promise,” he reached to squeeze Eliot’s hand. 

“I don’t think there’s a way around this,” Eliot squeezed Quentin’s hand back. “Want to fuck?” 

Quentin closed his eyes before laughing again. “I don’t know, El, I mean – Alice and all of that. I just – “

“I’m to be married tomorrow and from there on I am doomed to most likely never touch another man again. So please, Q, help me out here.” 

-

“Not the worst conditions I’ve ever done similar things at,” Eliot glanced over the haystack in the corner of the small shed they found a few minutes away from the swordsmith’s house and took a deep breath. “Smells like home.” 

“Right, you grew up on the farm,” Quentin remembered and took off his 

“Don’t even say it,“ Eliot lifted his hand to stop him. “Great, now I’ll have to spend another decade trying to forget it. Honestly, if you’d rather just shut up,” he crossed the space between them impatiently and without any ceremonies kissed the younger boy, softly at first, putting all of his feelings for Q in them. They weren’t lovers, but they weren’t friends either, they were both. 

Quentin wrapped his hands around Eliot’s waist, pulling him closer. It felt amazing. El glanced around and pushed Q against the wooden wall, running the tip of his tongue across his lower lip before slipping it inside the boy’s mouth. He tasted like the shitty wine, but Eliot did not mind at all. Finally he broke the kiss only to grab the zipper of Quentin’s sweatshirt. 

“Seriously, Coldwater, I will have to teach you how to dress. This isn’t the fashion of kings.”

“Shut up,” Quentin smiled and undid the buttons on Eliot’s vest by a simple hand movement. In these cases, magic was a blessing. 

Eliot glanced down at himself. “You’re cheating,” he murmured before he finally managed to take off the sweatshirt. The t-shirt quickly followed. “Who knew you would be this gorgeous?” 

Quentin blushed a little before finally unbuttoning Eliot’s shirt and stripping it down. The air was chilly, but it felt hot where their skin touched. It was as if their bodies remembered that night perfectly, even if their minds recollected only a few moments. El wedged his thigh between Quentin’s legs, feeling his hardness straining against his jeans. Quiet moan escaped Q’s mouth when he felt lips pressing against his collarbone, his hands sliding towards Eliot’s hips to pull him closer. 

“I can’t –“ Quentin whispered before reaching between them, brushing his hand against their painful erections. The Fillorian air truly did wonders. 

“Q, I swear, as your High King, if you don’t unzip my trousers now I’m gonna make you suffer.”

Quentin chuckled before undoing their trousers and sliding his hands behind to Eliot’s spectacular ass, giving it a little squeeze. It was a perfect butt, firm and just begging to be felt. 

“Oh god, yes – more,” breathed Eliot, his knees almost giving up. “Can I touch you?” 

“Hmm-mm,” Quentin agreed, aching to be touched. Literally. He vaguely remembered Eliot being big about consent from the last time. No matter how demanding this man was, he always asked. His breath hitched when he felt the warm, soft hand slip into his boxers to wrap around his manhood. 

“Such a shame there is no such thing as lube here, another thing I will have to work on. I would so love to take you in. But as I love to sit, I think this will have to suffice,” El wrapped his hands around both of them, finally managing to lure an audible moan from Quentin, who reached down to intertwine their fingers and help his friend/lover to make them feel good. Slowly thrusting into their palms, breathing each other’s air until Eliot finally captured Q’s lips again. 

It was different than the last time. Obviously, this time they weren’t under any kind of spell but did this out of their own sober will, but more than that they wanted this. The lust they felt for each other grew so much without them even realizing and now they had one last chance before their lives changed forever. Who knew what their fight with the Beast would bring, maybe they were meant to die – again, and even if not as royals they wouldn’t really be able to screw each other in between meetings, especially with Eliot’s marriage.

“El, I think I’m gonna – “ Quentin whispered, his head falling onto Eliot’s shoulder, tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t even manage to finish the sentence before cumming all over their hands and Eliot quickly followed. 

A few minutes passed before they untangled their fingers, finding a small cloth to wipe their hands with. “Thank you, Q,” Eliot smiled at his younger companion, his soft gaze reflecting the unconditional love he felt for his friend. “I’m glad my last dick to dick experience was with you.”

“Shut up,” Quentin laughed before putting his bag back over his shoulder and running his hand through his hair to tame it a little.

Eliot opened the shed, looking around to make sure nobody saw them. “No I mean it, Q. I should also remind you that this was your last dick to dick experience as well, I have dibs on you after all.” 

“Whatever.”

“I mean it, as your High King I command it.”

“High King my ass, Eliot.”

“And what a great ass it is, Coldwater.”


End file.
